A Simple Story of Jethro and Jenny
by gotgoats
Summary: Jethro finds a letter from Jenny after the events of Judgment Day.  Spoilers for end of Season 5. Implied Jethro/Jenny with family undertones. Warnings: Reference to character death, OOC and it's sad. My first story! Be kind!
1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:** This is my first NCIS story!  
><strong>Disclaimer:<strong> I don't own NCIS or any of its characters.  
><strong>Spoilers:<strong> Judgment Day

**A Simple Story of Jethro and Jenny**  
>By gotgoats<p>

Ducky heaved a heavy sigh and picked up his phone once again. He hoped his mother's nurse would be available on such short notice. And he hoped she could stay for hours.

"_I don't care, Ducky. That woman let herself get killed to protect him. I know she was sick, and I know she was dying. That's all I know. You know more." Franks was letting his irritation bleed into his voice. _

"_I promised Jennifer that I wouldn't…"_

"_She's dead, Ducky. She's dead, and Probie's hurtin' something fierce." Franks paused for effect. "And you can help him. You can get him the answers he needs."_

"_Not all of them, I'm afraid."_

"_No, but enough, and with what I told him, and what you'll tell him…"_

"_He can come to his own conclusion?" _

"_You got it, Doc. Now, I'd suggest you talk to him tonight. He was on his second jar of bourbon when I left a few minutes ago. Go quick, Doc. He's in a bad way."_

Gibbs sat on the frame of his boat, mason jar held lightly in the fingers of his right hand, and in his left were two sheets of paper. One was a letter he had found, simply a greeting. "Dear Jethro". Not even punctuation. The other was a letter he had dug from the trash out of curiosity. It, too, started with "Dear Jethro", but went on with a few facts. The two that hurt him the most were her love for him, and the words, "I'm dying."

A sob escaped his lips as the mason jar shattered on the floor at his feet. He leaned weakly against the ribs of his boat, his voice finally rising and giving way to the sorrow his heart poured out. He clasped the papers to him, rocking back and forth, "I'm sorry, Jen, so sorry," choking out between his sobs.

Tony stood helplessly at the top of the stairs until Ducky tapped his arm and motioned to the younger man to take his leave. Tony nodded, dialing Abby as he left. He wanted to be sure she wasn't alone, and now that Gibbs had Ducky, he could look to her. Never once did it occur to him that he was looking to be comforted himself, and it just happened to take the form of caring for another.

Ducky let Jethro weep, unaware of his presence until Gibbs stood and fell against his worktable, cutting his hand on a chisel in the process. He stared at the blood dripping from his hand in detached wonder. His mind registered that he should feel pain, yet his body felt nothing. Gibbs continued to stare at the growing puddle on his workbench as Ducky quietly approached. He felt the older man before he saw him.

"You know, I know this should hurt." Gibbs spoke quietly, his words hushed as if in a sacred church. "But I feel nothing." He allowed a pained breath to pass his lips. "It's like my mind and heart are expressing themselves through my hand."

Anyone who did not know the depth of Jethro's love and dedication to Jennifer Shephard would have thought him drunk or out of his mind. Ducky knew different.

"And what, dear boy, has your heart and mind so torn that they must bleed?" Gibbs looked at him with defeated eyes.

"She loved me, Duck." He drew in another ragged breath. "She loved me. Even through the whole "no outside of work" mess, and through all of her…" He looked at Ducky with an evil glare. "You knew she was sick, didn't you? You could have helped her, could have let me…" He slammed his torn hand down on the worktable. He flinched for a moment, but his eyes stayed resolute.

"I did, Jethro." Ducky knew his friend was struggling to do two things now. One, remain standing, and two, not hit him. "She requested that I not tell anyone else of her illness. And I abided by her wishes."

"Why, Ducky? Why didn't she want me to know? What was she so damned worried about? Worried that I'd gun for her job, or that I'd push her to the grave faster?" Jethro's voice raised with the strange accusations he leveled at his fallen partner.

"No, Jethro." Ducky spoke softly, his accent softening his words even further. "She was afraid of hurting you." He drew in a deep breath before he continued. "You know, I often told her she should tell you, that you'd do what you could to help, or to make her comfortable."

"Yeah, and what did she say? That I was incapable? Too big of a bastard?"

"No, quite the opposite, in fact. She was worried that you would go so far in helping her that you would, in time, wear yourself out, and become ill yourself." Gibbs flinched openly at his words.

"She didn't give me the chance, Duck."

"No, and I regret that she didn't." He stood silent for a moment while Jethro stared at his hand, blood still oozing from it, the younger man seeming to be transfixed by it. "I was surprised when Vance called to tell me she was dead. I was surprised it was so soon. I know she was trying to find a way to tell you, if not in words, perhaps a letter." Ducky motioned towards the clutched papers.

"Perhaps that letter? Is that how she finally verbalized her love and her fears to you?" Gibbs nodded silently. No words were needed for several minutes.

"You know, you should really let me take a look at that. Clean it, at least. I know you'd not like stitches." Gibbs nodded silently again, this time guiding the older doctor upstairs and in to his bathroom.

Tony sat with Abby on her couch, his arms wrapped around her tightly.

"It's not your fault, Tony." Abby finally broke the silence around them.

"Yes, it is. I shouldn't have left. Ziva wanted to stay at the hotel, and I goaded and goaded until she agreed to go for a drive. If we'd stayed…"

"You'd be dead, too, Tony. She said for you to take the day off. You did. You did everything you could, Tony. You called her, you got Tim to trace her, you followed her to the diner. Everything. And if you'd have been with her, you would have been in that diner, too." She clutched at his shirt desperately.

"And I can't lose you, too. We just lost Mommy. I can't lose my big brother." His arms tightened around her more as she cried.

He sat in silence, wondering if she was indeed right. If they had been with the Director, would they be dead as well? The answer was yes, and he found it chilling. Jennifer Shephard may have been many distasteful things, but he just found one big reason he liked her. She hadn't saved just Gibbs that day. She'd saved the entire team.

Gibbs sat on the closed toilet lid and watched as Ducky cleaned his hand over the sink. He should clean it out again. He'd not done it after he'd shaved that morning. He should. Peroxide poured, pain hit, and Jethro felt something within him release. Tears ran down once again. Controlled tears, not the heartbroken sobs he had experienced earlier.

"Ducky?"

"Yes, Jethro?" Ducky spared him a quick glance, the small voice coming from the tall and powerful man being an unexpected dichotomy.

"You think Shannon and Kelly will help her? You know, get settled?"

"I'm sure they will, Jethro. I do not know exactly how things happen in heaven, or Elysium, or Nirvana, or any of the other names we have given our final home, but I do believe that those we love find solace with one another and wait for us. I do believe that Shannon will take care of her for your sake, if for no other."

Gibbs nodded, a gentle silence falling about them again.

Jethro showered and dressed, walking softly downstairs. It felt wrong to be in his house. He couldn't put his finger on it exactly, but something had changed. Something basic. Pain shot through his heart. Not physical, but emotion, so strong it nearly brought him to his knees.

His home. He could have made it their home long ago. He could have pressed the issue with her. He could have… things he could have and should have done, some of them nonsensical and simply born from sorrow, rushed through his mind, one right after the other in no coherent order.

He had taken to speaking to Shannon and Kelly over the years, and he now picked up with Jenny.

"You didn't fight fair, Jen." His words were soft and covered in love. "You kept me out of the war. You know I'd have fought for you, long and hard. I'd have taken care of you. If only you'd let me." He walked to the kitchen and looked in his fridge. Nothing. The cupboards were in the same state. Empty except for some of that horrid sugary cereal DiNozzo had left the last time he had stayed overnight.

Sighing, Jethro shut the pantry door. "I don't even want Chinese tonight, Jen." He paused. "I don't want pizza. I don't want a burger. What sounds good?" He leafed through the multitude of take out menu's he'd amassed over the years and finally landed on Mexican. Casa del Sol. They delivered.

He ordered his usual, a chicken taquito to start, the bean and beef burrito, Spanish rice with beans on the side, and steak and shrimp fajitas. He'd have two meals. Maybe three. But if you're gonna order take out and have to pay for deliver, may as well make it good.

He sat down to eat in silence, his mind still processing the letter he had kept close to him. He reached out and read it again.

_Dear Jethro,_

_There is so much I want to tell you, and I really don't know where to start. So I'll write this draft of a letter, because how bad is that opener? This can be a way to get my thoughts in order. So many things are going through my mind, some good, some bad, and some terrible._

_I lied to you, Jethro, when I said I didn't want any "off the job". I wanted it so badly, and had for years. So many times after I left you in Paris, I wanted to just come find you, tell you I was an idiot, and hope that you would be there for me. When I came to D.C. and you were there, I nearly stopped breathing. I had to stop myself from just speaking my mind right then. And I hated myself for it. I love you so much, and I made choices that prevent me from having the family I would have loved to have given you. I can say that here because you'll never see this. I can say a lot of things, like you're a bastard. You're a bastard, but you're MY bastard. At least, I wish you were._

_But I was now your boss, and I knew that if I let you too close, you would be hurt. Whether from a bullet you'd take for me, or a decision made by me, or simply because I'd not have time for you. And I'd already hurt you enough. I'd already hurt myself enough. I am so sorry. And don't tell me that an apology is a sign of weakness. It's not if it's sincere for a real wrong. It's never weak to admit to a mistake, Jethro. And don't tell me you don't make them. _

_I have some bad news, Jethro. And I don't know where to start telling you. How to start telling you. But I need to. I'm dying. There, I said it. Well, not really said, but you know what I mean. I'm leaving you again, this time not by choice. And I am so sorry for it. I don't want to leave you again. Ever. I want to smell your aftershave in the mornings at the office, and see the occasional woodchip that falls from your jeans. I want to be able to look down on you and your motley "children" as Abby calls themselves until we both retire. But I can't. And I won't. Because death is coming for me, and quickly. _

The letter ended there, a smudge blotting the page, obviously made from a tear. How many others had she started? He set it down and took another bite of burrito. He nearly gagged. Mexican was good, but not tonight. Food was wrong, his home was wrong, his life was wrong. He left the table loaded with the aromatic dishes and retreated to his basement. Hours later, he fell asleep, sanding block in hand, beneath his boat. Dreams of White Shoulders perfume mixed with coffee and blood woke him hours later. He ran a hand over his eyes and realized his face was wet. Sighing, he went upstairs and headed for the kitchen.

He stopped in surprise to see the light on. He was sure he'd had it off.

Tony sat with Abby until she was nearly asleep. She had settled, only occasionally did she let loose with a soft sob. Once she was sleeping, he started out of her apartment, only to be stopped by her hand touching his arm gently.

"I wanna go see Gibbs." Her voice shook slightly, and he nodded in agreement.

"I was headed over there now." Tony still spoke softly. "I was there first, and Ducky was there, so I came here. I want to check on him, too."

They drove to their leaders house in near silence. His house was all dark except for his basement. They entered silently, smelling the food before they got to his dining room. Tony picked up the closed containers and headed into the kitchen while Abby picked up the plate from the table. She was wrapping it in saran when Gibbs entered.

"What are you two doing?"

"We just wanted to check on you." Abby came and wrapped her arms around him. He accepted her embrace, his own arms surrounding her thin frame.

"Thanks, Abs." He kissed the side of her head softly. Turning to Tony, he held out his hand. "Thanks, Tony."

"Welcome, Boss. I see you had dinner, or at least tried."

"Yeah, didn't work out too well."

"At least you ate some?"

"Some, yeah. A few bites. You guys have dinner?"

"Nah. Thought we'd get pizza."

"Heat that up and eat. I think I'd like some company." He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Anything we can do?"

"Just be here. Beds are upstairs." He started to walk away, only to be stopped by Tony.

"Boss, um, we're happy to stay, and if you need to, you know, talk, we're here." Abby nodded solemnly.

"Thanks." He took a deep breath. "There's a letter on the table, Tony. Don't read it." He turned on his heel, headed back to his boat, confident that while Tony may not read it, Abby most certainly would. When his "youngest" joined him downstairs several minutes later, he knew she had.

"So she was Mommy."

"Yep, she was." He smirked. "Of course, she never thought any of us would know how she felt about any of us. Me, especially."

"Boss, what did she mean she was dying? What was wrong with her?" Tony stood at the base of the stairs. "I didn't know she was sick."

"She hid it. She didn't want us to know. Was "protecting" us." He looked over to his "children." "We know she died to protect me, and in doing so, kept you safe."

"Safe from _what_, boss?" With a deep intake of breath, Gibbs began telling them the story of Paris. Of nights in attics, of love found and lost, of betrayal, of pity, but mostly of two people driven by different desires, simply called Jethro and Jenny.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's Note:** I decided to write another chapter from Jenny's perspective.

**Chapter 2**

Jennifer Shepard felt pain rip through her once again. Several bullets had pierced her skin, pain mounting with each, when a final pain coursed through her, followed by a quiet and sudden peace that swept over her.

Rather than the bullets that had sounded in her ears only seconds before, she was greeted by silence. It wasn't uncomfortable or frightening, but was instead welcoming and calming. She sat up, confused for a moment as to why she was laying down.

Then she saw herself. She saw Mike shoot the remaining assassins. She saw him drive away, and Tony and Ziva arrive. She overheard their conversations, but it was as though she listened through a wall of water. Other voices began to beckon to her.

"Jenny?" A child's voice reached her ears. "It's time to come." Her voice held an urgency, and Jen turned to see a small reddish-auburn haired girl standing almost directly behind her. "We have to go now." Even as she spoke, the girl looked wistfully to the door as it opened once again.

"Who are you?" Jen looked back to the child, who followed Leroy Jethro Gibbs with hungry eyes.

"My name is Kelly." Her voice was soft. "And he's my daddy."

With one last look to her old partner and lover, she turned and followed the child through the door and into the sunshine. Instead of the desert, she found herself in what seemed to be Gibbs house. She looked at Shannon who simply shrugged at first, seeming to choose her words.

"Welcome, Jenny. I'm sure you've recognized me by now."

"Yes, from the pictures in his workroom." Jen blushed. While Jethro never seemed to catch her, she was still found out in her snooping.

"It's ok, Jen. We didn't mind. Did we?" Kelly giggled.

"No, Mommy. I like her better than the others." The child spoke more like Jen imagined that the child would normally. Fast and with humor lacing her words.

Jen stood for a moment, not sure of what to say. Why on earth were they here? And why had these two come to get her, and was she really dead, or was she having some sort of weird delusion because of the pain? Would she wake up in the hospital? Or was she really…her mind stopped suddenly. She knew.

"OOOOHHH!" She wailed as she leaned heavily into the wall behind her, her hands covering her face. "I'm really dead, aren't I?"

"Yes, Jenny." Shannon spoke quietly. The woman went to the newcomer and placed her arms around her. "It's ok to cry. You'll miss them. You'll miss him." Jen leaned into her unexpected friend and wept.

What may have been hours or years later, her tears ended. She straightened and looked around her. Shannon followed her gaze.

"We all create our own space. This is yours."

"I created this?"

"Yes." Shannon smiled gently. "Ours looks so much like this, only there's a swing set out back and a boat in the basement." Jen smirked.

"And what is in my basement?"

"I don't know." Shannon shrugged. "Why don't you go look?" Nodding, Jen took Shannon by the hand, the two women walking down the hall. Kelly waited impatiently at the basement door.

"Can I open it?" Jen smiled and nodded. It was the least she could do. That, and she was afraid to look. Having others with her was making her feel safer.

Kelly excitedly cracked open the door, and out wafted scents Jenny had not smelled since Paris. Old Spice mixed with dust from an attic and…was that fresh spinach brie?

They descended into what was an odd mix of the Parisian attic she and Jethro had shared, and his basement workshop. On one end was the boat he'd been making, beams still half sanded. Tools hung on the walls, sanding block was tossed under the ribs of the boat, as it had been the last time she'd visited his basement. The side of the basement held their bed, a table with two chairs, coffee mugs, and a lamp. Somehow it all fit, and the three girls sighed in contentment.

"So I created this, huh?" Shannon nodded, squeezing the other woman's hand.

"Yes, and I'd say you love him." Her eyes twinkled. "So that just presents one problem."

"And what is that?" Jen had the feeling she was going to enjoy this woman immensely.

"When he dies, who gets him?" Jen threw her head back and laughed. She had a feeling Jethro had created his own place, and her new friend knew exactly what it looked like.

Jen sat by herself in her kitchen for hours after her company left. Her favorite coffee cup, the dishes she loved as a child from her grandmothers house, and her mother's teapot graced her kitchen, and she reveled in it. She finished her coffee and headed back down to the comfort of her basement.

She cracked the door and was surprised to hear voices. And not just any voices. They were of her "family". She could see Jethro sitting on a sawhorse facing Tony and Abby. The two younger agents were huddled close together. As she focused on them, their words became clearer.

"I was crushed. I'd bought a ring and everything, but she was gone." His voice caught. "I tried to find her, but she was undercover somewhere. I couldn't find her." He cleared his throat and continued. "So I did what came naturally to me. I did a dumb thing."

"What did you do, Gibbs?" This came from Abby, who looked like she was on the edge of her seat in anticipation. Tony leaned forward, his face one of concentration, as if he were learning things of great importance rather than listening to a story of his employers and their affair.

"Ex-wife number two." Tony's eyes grew wide.

"Boss!" He sounded shocked. "You didn't! Not only were you trying to replace Shannon, but now add to it…" Jethro threw up his hands.

"I know, I know." He rubbed his hands down his face. "And I regretted it. Every day. Which I'm sure is how it got to the point of her taking the golf club to my head." He smirked.

"But, Gibbs! She came back! Why didn't you guys ever get together! I mean, we read the letter, but…" Abby was up and hugging her surrogate father before Jen could even follow her words. "I don't understand." Abby wailed pitifully. "I know she loved you. Why couldn't she…"

"Because she was afraid of hurting me more, Abs." Jethro rubbed her back as he spoke. "It's ok, Abs."

The three remained in silence, their thoughts written over their features. Abby was once again the one to speak.

"Gibbs?"

"Yeah?"

"Did she really mean it that she saw us as a family?"

"Yeah, she meant it. That letter was her feelings, plain and simple. No hiding behind the directorship, no hiding behind fears of hurting me, nothing like that.

That letter was her. Just her." Silence reigned once again, and Jen felt herself drawing away from them, even though she wanted to stay listening to her family.

She felt the passage of time, but didn't know how much time had passed. She wandered up to her room, only to find that when she stepped across the threshold, that she was in Jethro's bedroom. He lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling. His voice started to waft to her through the watery veil that separated their worlds.

"I don't know, Jen. I don't know what to do anymore." His voice broke. "I'm not sure of how to feel. I spent so long loving Shannon and Kelly, and then you, and not letting anyone else in." He paused for a moment. "I love all three of you. Is that right? Can I love all three of you? Is it breaking some sort of trust? Is that why you couldn't love me back? Because I still love them?" He curled onto his side, falling into a restless sleep.

Jen approached him, for some reason tiptoeing to his side. She sat on the bed, stroking his temple tenderly, as she would a small child. He sighed in his sleep, and she spoke softly, her lips brushing against his ear as she snuggled against his back. His warmth invaded her, and she took pleasure in it, while at the same time understood what was needed.

"Jethro," she whispered, "You'll be fine. You'll work, and you'll find happiness again." She took a deep breath. "You'll realize that you can love all three of us, that it isn't a betrayal to any of us. You'll realize that the three of us love you so much. And that has not stopped in our deaths." She drew in a shaky breath.

"You'll watch over our kids. You'll keep Tony from getting into too much trouble, and you'll keep Ziva safe despite her own determinations that she's able to take care of herself. McGee, well, you'll help him come out of his shell, and you'll help him find his way in life and out of computers." She chuckled. "And no more calling him an egghead when he's not around. That's not nice, you know."

"And Abby." Jenny sighed. "Take care of her, Jethro. She needs it the most. She'll need it the most out of all of them. Give her lots of hugs for me." She was silent for a moment, making sure there was nothing else that she needed to say. After several more minutes, she kissed his cheek, wiping the tears that had gathered on his closed eyelids.

"I love you, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. I love you so much. And I'll pass the message along that Shannon and Kelly do, too, even though they didn't ask me to." Her voice broke, and she fought with herself, knowing that she was closing a chapter in her afterlife.

"I'll be waiting, Jethro. Just remember that I love you. And remember that I'll hold you responsible for taking care of those "kids" of ours." Jenny sighed before she finished. "I don't want to say this, Jethro, but I have to. Fare you well until we meet again. And don't make it too soon. You've got a lot of living yet to do. And a lot of love yet to experience." She kissed his cheek one last time and stood, walking to the door.

She was surprised to see Shannon and Kelly waiting for her.

"Hi." She wiped tears from her eyes.

"You did a good job, Jenny, and thanks for telling him of our love." Kelly slipped into the room and climbed up to her daddy, kissing his cheek lightly.

"See you later, Daddy. It's gonna be a long time." She whispered into his ear, "There's gonna be babies, Daddy, and they'll need their grandpa. You're a great Daddy, so I know they'll be lucky to have you as grandpa. After all, grandpa always let me do things you and Mommy wouldn't let me do." She giggled. "Like riding pillows down the stairs."

Jethro smiled in his sleep, his mind seeing his three girls sitting down to a cup of tea. His body registered a light touch, and he jerked awake, confused for a moment by the slight smell of perfume. He shook his head and chalked it up to sorrow and bourbon before settling into a deeper sleep in which he dreamed of years in the future when the team were at his house and children raced up and down the stairs, pillows in hand. He smiled slightly as he heard Abby shout "Leroy, don't even THINK about it, boy!" "GAMPA! SHAVE ME!"


End file.
